This guy was living in a fucking mansion. And as if that wasn't enough, it was in the heart of the city—a giant hotel piercing the sky like a glass needle. From what I'd heard, he occupied the top floors: eight bedrooms, three living rooms, the works. Damn. Compared to my place, I felt like I'd been crammed in a cage my whole life.
I took a drag from my smoke and stared at the entrance. Two bodyguards stood like statues, hands linked in front, eyes scanning everything. Formal uniforms, earpieces—professional. No way I was waltzing in there without a plan.
Fuck, would twenty minutes be enough? Elevator to the top floor alone would eat ten. Maybe I needed to grind a few more credits for a third Time Stop as backup?
I whistled low. "Wow. This guy's living the dream."
My phone buzzed. I fished it out, still eyeing the building. Mendy's name flashed on the screen. Shit—I really told her I loved her, huh? Just thinking about it made me cringe.
